


Can't Help Falling in Love

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [82]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Background Sam/Michael - Freeform, Count!Death, Fluff? i guess?, M/M, Some Men Can Have Children, prince!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 18:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20783048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Dean wants to marry for love, but is in an arranged marriage. Count Julian, his future husband, shows him how to fall in love





	Can't Help Falling in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on tumblr
> 
> Written for my Arranged Marriage Square on my SPN Kink Bingo Card Round 4!!

“Mom, why can’t I marry like Sammy did?” Crown Prince Dean asked his mother. 

The Queen Mary sighed as she looked over at her eldest son. “Because Sam isn’t expected to rule, Dean,” she said gently, “And because we approved the match. It was an excellent match.” 

“He’d be better at being King,” Dean grumbled. 

Mary sighed. Both of her sons were at the marriagable age, with Dean being 24 and Sam being 20. King John and Mary had decided that both marriages should be arranged, but before they could find a suitable match for Sam, Sam came up with his own suitable match and Sir Michael, one of the knights who had earned the nickname ‘The Defender’, came forward to ask for Sam’s hand in marriage. Both John and Mary had been thrilled by the match and just two short months ago, Prince Sam married Sir Michael in a wonderful, lavish ceremony. They had just returned from their honeymoon not a week ago, still madly in love. 

Mary had the extra concern that both of her sons were of a rare breed that could carry children and birth them. She never let that affect what her sons loved, though, and Dean always had had a harder time with it than Sam. It made finding a suitable match all the harder. 

“Be that as it may,” she told him, “there just aren’t that many men who will eventually fall in love with a Prince who can give life. Not to mention that many men would love to use you and your title to wreck havoc across the kingdom. I will not have you be used as a pawn.” 

Dean heaved a sigh, seeing his mother’s point. There’s always the chance that he could fall in love with someone and marry them, and yet have something horrific happen. “But Mom- what if I hate him?” he asked. 

“I hated your father when we first met, and for several months afterwards,” Mary said absently, fixing her son’s doublet. “I grew to love him, however, and you will too, Dean.” 

“I hope so,” Dean grunted. “But I want something like what Sammy has, Mom.” 

Mary nodded and sighed. Michael and Sam loved each other deeply, any blind fool could see that. “What your brother has with his knight is a very rare kind of love and it’s very special,” she said. “We all long for it. Only a few are able to achieve it. Remember, Dean, it does no good to be jealous.” 

“I know,” Dean sighed and nodding. He looked out the window of his chambers and onto the training grounds. Sir Michael and Sam were sparring with wooden swords, the two of them laughing as they did so. There was a playfulness in their movements and as Dean watched, Sam disarmed his husband and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. 

Dean was at least thankful that he knew a little bit about his betrothed. He knew that it was Count Julian, that he was an older gentleman with a fascination for the mortuary arts. He knew that he was a knight once, and that he was wounded on the battlefield back when his father just became King and so therefore walked around with a cane. He disliked the drivel of court, and he had been married once before, but the girl he married ran away and became a nun because she never wanted to be married. 

He could only hope that he could at the very least  _ like  _ the man that he was to marry. Otherwise, this would be a long and bitter marriage. 

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

“Announcing the Count Julian!!” 

The royal family remained seated as the older gentleman moved forward. King John was in the center, Mary to his right and Dean to his left. Dean was, for once, sitting up straight in his chair and not sprawled all over it. He  _ did  _ want to make a good impression, after all. His doublet was open, exposing his throat and a bit of his chest, and his hose were a bit on the baggy side, but not  _ too  _ baggy. He had heard rumors that the count took a  _ very  _ particular interest in how people dressed. 

He chanced a glance across his parents to observe his brother on their mother’s right, reading absently, his fingers dancing over the pages. Behind Sam stood Sir Michael, tall and imposing and with a firm hand resting over the back of Sam’s chair. 

The Count wasn’t… well, he looked  _ ancient _ , although he was just a few years older than his father. Then again, everyone who deals with death always looks older (Dean’s fairly certain of that). He was clothed in all black, except for his tunic, which was the whitest white that Dean’s ever seen. Everything about Julian screamed  _ proper _ and Dean internally whined. The cane was a simple black one with a silver knob at the top. 

“Your Majesties, your Highnesses,” the count greeted, bowing. 

John stood up and went down to greet Julian. “Julian,” he said warmly. “How long has it been, now?” 

“Two Christmases ago, your Majesty,” Julian replied as he gave a soft smile at John. It wasn’t  _ warm  _ exactly, but tepid. Better than cold. “Sadly, last Christmas I was ill.” 

“We got word, we were worried,” John said as they walked towards the dias where the royal family sat in the throne room. Dean couldn’t wait to get his circlet off his head. “You, of course, remember my wife, Mary.” 

“The Queen who gives her all,” Julian said, kissing the back of Mary’s hand. “And is quite exceptional with a blade herself, if I recall.” 

“That she is, Julian,” John said with pride. 

“Welcome, Julian, it’s been far too long,” Mary said as she rose and kissed Julian’s cheek. 

“It has been,” Julian agreed. “Rest assured, I’m sure you will all tire of everything to do with me soon enough. In fact it’s been so long that I see a certain young man there is now a knight.” 

Michael gave a soft chuckle and nodded at Julian. “It’s good to see you, my Lord,” he said. “I think when you last saw me I was a squire.” 

“And from what I hear, a damn good knight now,” Julian said. “And I seen you’ve done well for yourself.” 

“Sam, put away the book,” Michael said gently. 

Sam looked up as he closed his book and smiled brightly. “Good morning, Count Julian,” he said brightly. “It’s an honor to meet my future brother-in-law before the wedding.” 

Dean snorted. 

“And it is an honor to meet you as well, your Highness,” Julian said with a smile. “May you and your husband have many happy years together.” 

“Thank you,” Michael said, reaching down to squeeze Sam’s shoulder lovingly. 

“This is our eldest son, and your future husband,” John said, gently nudging Dean’s shoulder. Dean took the cue and stood. “This is Dean, the future King.” 

Dean scowled at his father. He hated being reminded that he was to rule. All he wanted was to hunt and ride his horse and say ‘fuck it all’. He didn’t say that, though. All he said was, “Good morning, my Lord. I hope that your trip was satisfactory.” 

“It was well enough, it’s been a while since I’ve made the journey,” Julian said. “And my knee isn’t as good as it once was.” He looked Dean over with a critical eye before turning his attention to John. “You were not wrong, he is very attractive,” he told his King. “However, I am a little miffed that he appears to not know how to dress himself.” 

Dean could’ve decked him right then and there. 

“Dean has a mind of his own, I’m sure you remember that from when he was a child,” John said gently. 

“Indeed,” Julian said. “It would do him well to remember who he is and what exactly it is that he represents.” 

“Um, excuse me, I’m right here?” Dean said. “You can tell me that I look like a fat bitch to my face.” 

“ _ Dean! _ ” Mary and Sam said in the same voice. Michael had to turn away to hide a disapproving smile. John simply sighed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, as if to ask God for help with his son or to strike him dead. Dean’s not sure which. 

Julian merely gave a raised eyebrow (which, one hundred percent did not send pleasant shivers up Dean’s spine). “That is not what I meant, Dean,” he said. “You should learn to listen better.” 

“And maybe you should get the cock outta your ass,” Dean snarked back. 

“That’s enough, Dean,” John commanded. 

Dean lifted his lip into a snarl. 

“It is quite alright, John,” Julian said, resting a hand on John’s shoulder. “Dean is just speaking his mind. Albeit in a barbaric way, but he is still speaking his mind, and I will allow my husband that courtesy.” 

“This is going beyond speaking his mind,” John said. “He is being offensive.” 

“To soldiers like you and I, can we even be offended anymore?” Julian said. “I understand your concerns. But we can correct the behavior, can’t we?” 

Dean wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that. Or Julian. 

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

“I hate him!” Dean announced in the family library. 

Sam looked up from the book that he was reading. “Oh? Why?” he asked mildly. “Is he going on about raising children?” 

“No, thank God,” Dean groaned. “But he is so  _ nitpicky  _ on how I dress and act. I feel like he never has a nice word for me. Today, he berated me in that infuriating way he does in front of Mom about my baggy hose and lack of tunic,  _ yet again _ . Like, who cares?” 

Sam sighed as he marked his page. “Well, try to think about it from his perspective. You are the Crown Prince, the man who  _ will  _ be a King. You’re also going to be his husband and ergo are representing both him and your union as one in public. Would  _ you  _ be proud of him if he was unkempt and swore like a sailor?” 

Dean scowled at Sam. He knew that his brother was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. 

“He’s old fashioned, sure, but the Count really does have your best interests at heart,” Sam added. “He was telling Dad just yesterday that he wants to wait a full year after the wedding before he tries for a child.” 

Dean blinked. “Really? How do you know?” he asked curiously. 

Sam smiled. “No one pays attention to someone quietly reading a book,” he said. “And, if you ask me, I think he kind of likes the way you talk to him. I’ve seen him dress other people down for being unkempt and with you, he almost… tolerates it.” 

Dean sighed. Again, Sam was right. He’s seen it, too, and the other people have ran away in tears. Dean’s ran away with his baggy hose too tight. “I still wish that you were the one who was going to be King,” he said. 

Sam laughed and shook his head. “I’ll be content remaining a Prince,” he said. “I’ll leave being King up to you. Don’t worry about it. You’re going to be a good King, Dean. And a good husband.” 

Dean wasn’t so sure about that. 

**ONE WEEK LATER**

“Dean.” 

Dean sighed and turned his head to look up at Count Julian. Julian was clad in his usual black and white ensemble, clutching his cane. “May I sit and talk with you a while?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, hopping up to grab a chair for the count. 

“Thank you,” Julian said as he sat down. 

“Of course,” Dean said, sitting back down in his own chair, and resisting the urge to slouch as he normally does. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“I had a talk with Prince Sam recently,” Julian explained, “and he told me that you were having difficulties with myself and the marriage in general.” 

_ I’m going to kill him,  _ Dean thought,  _ that would one way to not become king.  _ He looked at Julian. “I’ve always wanted to marry like Sam did,” he said, “For love. My parents adore Michael and having him as a son-in-law. And Okay, I’m jealous. I’m trying not to be, but I am. Jealous that he got to have a choice that I will never have, just because, what, I’m to be King?” He scoffed and shrugged. “He will never have to worry about that, and yet, he would make an excellent King. I don’t think I would.” He waved his arm. “All I want to do is hunt and ride my horse and maybe do a battle or two. The… the diplomatic stuff I’m not good at. You know that. And then there’s that. You come along and it feels like that all you do is criticize me and yeah, I can understand  _ why, _ there’s a lot to criticize but-”

“You still feel that I should bring you up instead of putting you down and that I should just adapt,” Julian said in his usual calm, elegant way. 

Dean nodded and sighed heavily. “Yeah, that, exactly.” 

Julian sighed heavily. “I see that you’ve misunderstood a few things,” he said. “Let me address these things one at a time. First of all, what your brother has with Sir Michael is very rare. I’m sure that you’re tired of hearing that-” 

“Real fuckin’ tired,” Dean grumbled. 

“Dean, it’s impolite to interrupt someone while they’re speaking,” Julian gently but firmly chastised. 

“You just did it! When I was speaking!” Dean exclaimed. 

“I finished your sentence, which was also very rude of me and I apologize,” Julian said. “Are you done?” 

Dean stopped. Something about the way Julian said that made him give pause. “I’m sorry,” he said, calmer.  _ What the fuck, Dean? _ “Please continue.”

“You’re tired of hearing it, but it’s the truth,” Julian continued as if there was no interruption. “It’s something that I’ve rarely seen myself, and I’m old, Dean. We all hope for a love like the one your brother and his knight have. Even I did, when I was your age and younger. It is a very difficult love to find and an even harder love to keep.” 

“And being told ‘hey, go marry this person’ is better and easier?” Dean asked skeptically. “I mean, it didn’t work out for you in the past.” 

“No,” Julian agreed, “But it wouldn’t have worked out. She was too intertwined with her faith, and I wanted none of that. She made an excellent daughter of the Church, and passed away sometime ago. I may’ve been her husband for a short time, but I do think fondly of her. It’s not that the idea of an arranged marriage is easier, because it’s still difficult. Marriage, in and of itself, is difficult.” Julian sighed. “The arranged marriage helps you find love in unexpected places.” 

Dean hadn’t thought of that before. 

“My critiques of you are meant to help you,” Julian moved on. “I know that you have your reasons for why you do certain things, so how about we talk about them so that we can reach a compromise on them?” 

Dean blinked. “Compromise?” he repeated dumbly. 

“Yes, Dean. Marriage is all about compromises,” Julian said. 

Dean liked the sound of that, even though he’s not sure how to compromise. “Okay,” he said. “I prefer my hose to be baggy.” 

“Why?” Julian asked simply. 

Dean hummed softly as he sorted his words out. “They’re more comfortable that way, there’s more cushion there for when I decide to ride bareback, and it hides my bowlegs.” 

“Unfortunately, a great deal about being royalty and nobility is about being uncomfortable,” Julian said dryly. “Hose are meant to be tighter to the body. What if we get the tailor to let out a few seams and make them a little looser, but not so loose that they’re baggy? I have my own tailor due that for myself. Tighter hose aggravates my injury.” 

Dean hadn’t thought about that. He just always had them go several measurements too big (except in the waist and ankles). “I mean, I could try it,” he said reluctantly. 

“It will still be a tighter fit than what you’re used to,” Julian warned. “And it  _ will  _ show off your bowlegs, but I think that your legs are just fine the way they are.” 

Dean gave a light flush at the thinly veiled compliment. “Okay,” he said, emboldened by how well this went, “I prefer to have my doublet not at my throat,” he said. “Things around my neck, especially up high, make me very nervous and a little panicked. I dunno why.” 

“That explains why I’ve never seen you with a scarf around your neck, no matter how cold it gets,” Julian noted. “Even as a child, you never did.” 

Dean shivered thinking about that. “Yeah,” he said. “I can only barely stand my robe, cape, thing that I have to wear for official functions.” 

“Perhaps I’m fine with that,” Julian said slowly, “now knowing that the reason isn’t that you’re showing off but because of a legitimate discomfort.” 

“Wait- you thought that I was doing it to show off?” Dean asked, mildly offended. 

“I was your age once upon a time, Dean, as hard as that is to fathom,” Julian pointed out, “And I was a knight. All men show off. Even Sam shows off.” 

“How the hell does Sammy show off?” Dean asked incredulously. 

“He does not show off in the same way that you or I or even Sir Michael would show off,” Julian chuckled. “Your brother is a charmer, more like a lady of the court rather than a man.” 

“Ah. Told him that he was such a girl,” Dean grinned. 

“Be polite towards your brother,” Julian chastised. 

“It’s my  _ brother _ ,” Dean groaned. 

“Can we discuss now why you dislike wearing your tunic?” Julian asked with a raised brow. 

That brow  _ did  _ things to Dean. “Sure,” he said, willing to get the conversation back on track. 

The two of them talked through the rest of the evening and for half the night. By the time the conversation had ended, while Dean headed back to his chambers after escorting Julian to his, he felt happier about Julian. And maybe a bit hornier, but definitely happier. And he felt better about marrying him. He still wasn’t thrilled, but still better than he was. 

Perhaps that’s why he and Julian snickered quietly as they passed by one of the tapestries and heard one of the servants exclaim, “Your  _ Highness _ , you are  _ married  _ to him, you daft numpty! You don’t have hide amongst the tapestries for clandestine meet ups anymore!” 

And perhaps that’s why he longed for Julian to pull him behind a tapestry to kiss him deeply. 

**FOUR WEEKS LATER**

Dean ran his hand up Impala’s neck as he looked out at the wide open fields. Tomorrow, he was getting married to Julian and he thought that if he had to discuss the wedding  _ one more time _ , he was going to launch someone out the window and postpone the wedding for his murder trial. 

As a result, he had stolen away, saddled up his horse, and quietly sneaked out to his idea of Heaven- where he could ride and not worry about a damn thing. He was only equipped with a short sword, but he felt like he could take on armies. 

He and Julian had become closer, and he delighted in seeing how his snark would spark something in Julian’s eyes and feel the quiet rage whenever he put himself down in a way that the older man disapproved of. Any touches that they had exchanged had been chaste- and not even a chaste kiss had graced his cheek. Old fashioned indeed. 

He didn’t mind. He’d have the rest of Julian’s life to get what he wanted.  _ That sounded callous, but he didn’t mean for it to be,  _ he thought. 

“Shouldn’t you be finishing the planning for our nuptials?” Julian’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Dean turned in his saddle to look at the Count coming up on his white stallion. 

“If I have to plan one more seating arrangement or hear about the place settings again,” Dean said in a slow, dangerous voice, “heads are going to go flying and I’d be on trial for murder.” 

Julian gave a mirthless smile. “Fair enough,” he said. “Do you care for a race? Deville here is feeling a bit restless and he could use a challenge.” 

Dean grinned. Sam may beat him in most other areas, but in riding, few horsemen could match Dean. And from what he heard, Julian was an excellent rider. “If you can even attempt to keep up, old man!” he said playfully as he slapped Impala’s flank. Impala reared and took off, and one could hear Dean’s laughter for miles as Julian gave chase. 

They chased each other and rode for hours, stopping when they came to the river. Dean had a blanket he always kept on hand, and they sat down in the grass on it, close to each other but still with a respectful distance away from each other. 

“I’m nervous,” Dean admitted after a time of silent contemplation. 

“Why?” Julian asked. 

“Because I’ve never been married,” Dean said. “What if I fuck it up?” 

Julian gave a soft laugh and pressed the first, gentle, chaste kiss against Dean’s cheek. “We both will,” Julian said. “But that’s a part of life. As long as we learn from our mistakes and move on from it, we’ll be fine.” 

“I suppose,” Dean murmured. He looked up at the Count and for once, the Crown Prince looked far younger than he was. “Don’t leave me at the altar, please?” 

“Dean,” Julian said tenderly, cupping his betrothed’s face in his hands. “I’ll admit that when I first met you, I thought that we were going to have some issues and that we weren’t going to get along, and that I’m very bad at expressing how I truly feel, but I care deeply about you and can see myself growing to love you. I know what it’s like to be left; I won’t leave you at the altar or at all. Except in death. I promise.” 

“I care about you, too,” Dean sighed, leaning into Julian’s touch, his fears assuaged for now. “And I won’t leave you.” 

“Good,” Julian whispered, pressing a kiss to Dean’s forehead. “Now, let’s head back, before they realize we’re missing.” 

Dean smiled. “Good idea. Race you back?” 

_ Do you, Dean, take Julian to be your lawfully wedded husband?  _

_ I do.  _

_ Do you, Julian, take Dean to be your lawfully wedded husband?  _

_ I do.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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